Sick
by Gwendolyn James
Summary: Harry's got a cold, and he's quite cranky. What will it take to make him feel better? One-shot.


Disclaimer: My head hurts. I own my very own bottle of ibuprofen. That's about it.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to Seren and Cory, the only other crazies aboard the HMS LP who actually post along with me. You guys rock. Thanks for all the chicken soup and smiles you gave me while I was deathly ill (well, maybe just a little bit deathly). Most of the first half of this fic was based off of my life for the past week. I hate being sick, and so does Harry. ;)

* * *

"Harry, just go to bed already!" Hermione coaxed. "You look awful."

"Hermione, I really want to go to Hogsmeade." Harry wiped his nose on his sleeve and ignored the disgusted look on Hermione's face. "It's the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas and I have to buy presents."

She crossed her arms and frowned at him. "I'm not letting you go out into the snow when you look like that. Give me your list and Ron and I will buy the gifts for you."

"But, Hermione, if I give you the list, you'll know what I was going to get you." He hated that he was whining, but his head was pounding and he really didn't care how he sounded at the moment.

Hermione scoffed. "Harry, honestly. It doesn't matter." She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around, giving him a little push towards the dormitory. "Go get in bed – I'll send Ron up for your list."

He didn't have the energy to argue. He just trudged up the stairs and fell into bed.

Ron came up a few minutes later. "You look horrid, mate."

"Thanks," Harry croaked. His throat was on fire.

Ron grinned. "Hermione said something about a list?"

"Over there." He lifted a hand in a feeble gesture. Ron got the idea and found the list.

"See you later?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Someone was watching him.

He forced one eyelid open and frowned at the light that invaded his brain. He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

The someone was still there.

"Go away," he moaned.

"Why would I do that?" she asked.

There was a _girl_ in his room. He sat up quickly and wished he hadn't – all the blood drained from his head.

"Careful," she admonished. "You'll get dizzy if you do that."

He opened his eyes and looked at the intruder. "Luna? What... what are you doing in my room?"

She smiled at him, like she had a secret and he wasn't allowed to know about it.

He pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew his nose loudly. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"I know."

He frowned. She didn't seem bothered by the fact that she was in his room nor that he was shirtless. Definitely not as bothered as he was. "Go away, Luna."

"I can't, Harry," she replied with a serene smile. "You're sick."

"I _know_ I'm sick," he snapped. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone and let him die in peace?

"Stop being such a baby and let me help you."

He blinked slowly. Had she just called him a baby?

"I brought you a bit of remedy potion that my dad always makes. It will help clear your head."

His head was _plenty_ clear, thank you very much. Who was she again? Oh, right – Luna.

"Look, Luna, I really don't want..."

"Don't argue." She pushed a small cup at him. "Drink it."

It smelled like raw sewage – it was so strong that he could smell it through his blocked sinuses. He tried to give the cup back, but she wouldn't have it. Fine. Maybe if he drank it, she'd go away. He wrinkled up his nose and forced the foul-smelling potion down his throat.

"Holy... oh... bloody hell, that's _awful_," he gagged.

She held out a small pail as he emptied out the contents of his stomach. "Feel better?"

"No," he moaned as he lay back down, clutching his stomach.

"You will," she assured him.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

She laughed, and the sound made his head swim. Well, that could've been from the bloody potion. "Harry, I'm trying to _help_ you."

"Can't you just let me sleep?" Why wouldn't his head stop pounding already?

"Of course," she replied, "but first you need something in your stomach." She handed him two pieces of toast. Where had _those_ come from?

"Shouldn't you have thought of that _before_ you gave me that potion?"

Another laugh. "You certainly are cranky today."

"My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my hair hurts, my _cells_ hurt, I can't breathe through my nose, and I've got more phlegm than oxygen in my lungs." he retorted. "I think I have a certain right to be cranky. Why are you laughing at me?"

She shook her head and grinned at him. "You're funny, Harry."

"I don't think my utter and total agony is very amusing, thanks." He scowled and stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Oh, stop whining," she said, putting her small hand on his forehead like it was something she did every day. "I don't think you have a fever, but take this anyway." She put a wet cloth on his forehead and he felt its coolness seep into his skin.

"That does feel nice," he mumbled crossly.

She just smiled. "Sleep. You'll feel better."

"That's what I was trying..."

* * *

He woke up to a ringing in his ears. Well, it was more of a buzzing, actually.

_Was_ it a buzzing? Maybe not. He couldn't seem to make sense of it.

Oh. It was humming. _She_ was humming – some fanciful little tune that he couldn't quite make out. It was nice, actually.

"What are you still doing here?" He grimaced at his tone. He really hadn't meant to sound so touchy. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice.

"I brought you some tea," she informed him with a smile. Did she _ever_ stop smiling? He doubted it.

"Thanks," he croaked, pushing himself to a sitting position and taking the steaming cup from her.

"Sugar?"

He nodded feebly and watched as she put two lumps of sugar in his cup. "Thank you." He took a long drink, surprised at how good it was. He tried again. "Why are you here?"

"Because you need me."

That gave him pause. "Because I'm sick?"

"You could say that," she grinned. "Do you want some soup?"

"Soup? You made me soup?"

"No."

Now he was _really_ confused. "No?"

"_No_, I didn't make you soup. The house-elves made you soup."

He couldn't help but laugh at the impish expression on her face. "Well, tell them I appreciate it."

"I'll do that." She reached up and took the cloth from his forehead. "Feeling any better?"

He _was_ feeling somewhat less disgusting, come to think of it. "Yeah, a bit. Thanks. For staying with me, I mean." He cleared his throat. "You didn't have to. You could have gone to Hogsmeade with the others."

She placed a fresh cloth on his forehead and looked at him – _really_ looked at him. "I _could_ have, but I told you. You need me."

He had a feeling she wasn't talking about his sickness anymore. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true."

He sighed. Why couldn't she just give him a straight answer? He decided to change the subject. "You never did tell me how you got in here in the first place. How did you get the password?"

She just smiled.

"Oh, come on, tell me. Please?"

"Ginny gave it to me."

"Ginny did? Why?"

She shrugged. "She said you were sick, and that she would have stayed herself, but she had a date. So I told her that I would stay with you and she gave me the password."

He didn't know if he wanted to hug Ginny or strangle her. He'd have to think about that when his head wasn't so fuzzy.

"Do you want soup or not?"

"Oh, right. Yes, thanks." He traded his tea cup for the bowl of soup and then sat back to watch her.

She was a mystery, a puzzle. He had known her for nearly two years now, and he still didn't really _know_ her. Her mind worked in ways that he couldn't even fathom. She intrigued him.

She suddenly stood, interrupting his train of thought. "I think they're back."

"Who?" His brain wasn't working properly again.

"The others. Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll send Ron up here to check on you later."

He shook his head. "Do you have to go? I... I was hoping I could have another cup of tea."

She laughed. "Go to sleep, Harry. You'll feel better tomorrow."

And she was gone.

* * *

"Harry! You're awake!" Ron called out from his place by the fire.

Hermione looked up from her book and smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks," Harry grinned. "I think I just needed some rest."

"Well, good," Hermione said. "Everyone left this morning for the holiday, though – it's just us."

"And Ginny," Ron added, "but she's down at breakfast."

Harry nodded. "Er... anyone from the other houses?"

"Suppose so," Ron shrugged. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason." He tried to sound casual, but he had the distinct feeling that Hermione was trying not to laugh. "What?"

"Nothing," she smirked. "Glad you're feeling better, Harry."

He gave her a curious look. "Thanks. I, er... I think I'll go down and see what's for breakfast." He ignored Hermione's stifled giggles and made his way out of the portrait hole.

* * *

She wasn't there.

Not that he was _looking_ for her or anything. He just _happened_ to notice that she was absent from breakfast. No special reason. Certainly not because he wanted to _talk_ to her or anything. Of course not.

"Harry! How are you feeling?"

He turned to see Ginny waving him over. "I'm better, thanks, Gin."

She scooted over to make room for him at the table. "Juice?"

"Sure, thanks," he mumbled, trying to look down the table without actually _looking_ like he was looking.

"I haven't seen Luna."

"Wh-what?" he sputtered. "What do you mean?"

She laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world. "You're so bad at this, Harry."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to look like the scrambled eggs in front of him were the most fascinating things he'd ever seen.

She wasn't buying it. "It's okay to admit it, you know."

He took a bite of the eggs and avoided her eyes. "Admit what?"

Ginny just shook her head and grinned. "Admit that you _like_ her, Harry. That you think she's _interesting_."

Why did girls have to be so bloody_ perceptive_? "Fine. I'll admit that she's interesting, but I _just_ want to thank her for taking care of me. That's _all_."

She reached over and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For being such an idiot! Would it honestly be the worst thing in the world if you actually _liked_ her?"

"Maybe it _would_. Ow! Stop hitting me!" She was a dangerous one.

"Then stop being so stupid!" she scowled.

"What do you _want_ from me, Ginny?"

"I want you to stop being so worried about what people think. Luna's one of my dearest friends, and I really don't think you're giving her enough credit." She sighed. "Just give her a chance, Harry. Give yourself a chance and _really_ get to know her. I think you'll be surprised."

* * *

Girls were so annoying sometimes. It was the non-verbal communication that was bothering him at the moment. How was it that Ginny could just _look_ at Hermione, and Hermione instantly knew every detail of the conversation at breakfast, without having even _been_ there?

It was annoying beyond belief. Mostly because he knew that Ginny was right.

Sometime in the last two years he'd stopped feeling sorry for Luna.

He _did_ think she was interesting – she was more interesting than any other girl he'd ever met.

He _did_ want to get to know her – he had a feeling that she held the secrets of the universe in her eyes.

He _did_ like her – he liked her more than he thought he would. He liked that she was quirky, eccentric, unpredictable. He liked that she could make him laugh when he felt completely awful. He liked that she wasn't worried about what people thought.

Not like he was.

Well, maybe it was time for him to stop being so stupid, as Ginny so eloquently put it. Maybe it was time to give himself a chance.

* * *

He found her in the library, completely engrossed in a dusty volume, her wand in its usual place behind her ear.

She looked up as he approached, but didn't seem surprised in the least. "I was wondering when you'd come around."

"Er... yeah," he mumbled. "Well, I... er..."

"You're welcome." She smiled and went back to her book.

Well, _that_ wasn't how it was supposed to happen. "No, Luna, I... er...well, what I meant was... er..." Oh, good gods, he _was_ an idiot. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he string together a complete sentence? Just _one sentence_, that's all he was asking for! He felt his ears getting hot. Must have been the fever returning.

Luna looked up at him with a serene smile. "Harry, did you want to ask me something?"

He blinked. "Wha – what?"

"I just though I'd get you started. Go ahead and ask."

How did she _do_ that? How did she always seem to know what he was going to do before he did it? He shook his head to clear it. "Er, yeah, right. Well, er..." _Oh, just say it, you moron! Just ask her out on a date and get it over with!_

She laughed – that crazy, uninhibited laugh of hers. "Yes, Harry. I would love to go out on a date with you. How about ice skating on the lake tomorrow?"

He couldn't keep his thoughts inside this time. "How did you know I was going to ask you that?"

She had that look again, the look that said she held a special secret and wasn't going to share. But she surprised him. "You're not very good at hiding things, Harry."

"I always thought I was."

She just laughed again. "Not from those who know you."

He couldn't help but grin. She was right. "So, er... tomorrow, then?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow. Thank you for asking."

"You're welcome," he laughed, as he took a seat beside her.

This was definitely going to fun.

* * *

A/N: Woohoo! That was fun. Poor Harry - he's so abused. But we love him anyway. :) And before you all start screaming, "Hey! I thought you were a H/G shipper!", let me just say that I support both H/G and H/L. You can hate me if you want, but I don't care. ;) And there might be a sequel, but I haven't decided yet. So there. REVIEW ALREADY! :D  



End file.
